Blame Myrddin
by TNGoH
Summary: Elaria James is inher sixth year at Hogarts in Ravenclaw, her second as a prefect. This year she encounters Love, Sibling Rivalries, Strange Happenings, and Long Lost Relatives, all at the hands- paws of her cat, Myrddin.


Disclaimer: Anything that can be recognized as Harry Potter related are not mine, they belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers, however new characters are mine, so please ask before you use them.

A/N: I hope the chapters will be longer soon, and I haven't introduced all the new characters yet. There are three other main ones that have yet to arrive. Hope you like.

Minerva:

Another year had begun, all too soon, according to the Professors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Professor McGonagall had assumed, incorrectly, that this year, her fifth as the Headmistress of the School, would be easier. She knew exactly how many new students were coming this year (37), how many prefects (24), how many new Professors (2), and how many headaches her Deputy Headmaster was causing her (9). Yep, everything was right on schedule. So why was she so nervous? Why did she keep pacing in her office, the very same of that of her predecessors? Why was she so worried about this year, more than any other? It was because of her. That haughty, flighty, twit; that irrepressible, conniving old cow. Now, normally it would be quite rude to say such things like that about your own sister, but in this case, Minerva had quite a good reason.

Her sister was ashamed of her. Ever since she had run off and married Sean, her sister had been cold around her. Even when news of Sean's death had reached her sister, Diana, Minerva's sister, had acted as if she had only had one sibling, instead of two. Helia had always been the favorite, preferring dolls to broomsticks, unlike Minerva. Diana would be about 72, Minerva reasoned, hardly young enough to hold onto the value that 'the prettier things were the better'. Minerva hadn't seen Diana in quite sometime and she knew that Diana had two sons and a daughter. The sons had both died in the first war, leaving a combined total of three children between them. But the daughter, last she had heard, had children of her own. Minnie, a grotesque name in Minerva's eyes, had had two children; a boy and a girl.

The Quilles, Minnie's maiden name, Diana's married name, were said to be a quiet and beautiful sort. The all had brown, straight hair and deep, sea-like eyes. Minerva knew the children, Minnie's children. The boy would be starting his fourth year in Gryffindor; his name was Emory. Emory Sean James. Emory was not extremely quiet, he had a real talent for flying, too. In fact, Minerva remembered all too well how she had had to punish him last year, because he had flown the toad of a Slytherin first year to the top of a turret in the rain. It made Minerva smile, to realize how unlike Diana, Emory actually was.

Emory's sister, Minnie's daughter, Diana's granddaughter, and Minerva's great-niece was named Elaria. Elaria Minerva James was to start her 6th Year as a Ravenclaw, her second as a prefect. From the stories that had been told about Elaria in the Professors' Lounge, she was nothing short of brilliant. Although, it displeased Minerva to know that Elaria was nowhere near touching the point of excellence set by Hermione Granger, she was happy to know that her great-niece had received straight Os on her O.W.L.S. this past term. Elaria was a sweet, quiet girl and very much like Diana, but she also had a pleasant disposition that reminded Minerva, quite fondly, of Albus. Elaria had her family's light brown hair, but the bluest eyes. The eyes, she supposed, were from her father's side.

Minerva was dreading this year the most because her sister would be taking over the studies of the subject of Divination. Begging Sibyll Trelawney to stay had not been above Minerva. If there was one person Minerva couldn't stand more that Trelawney, it was her sister. And she would try damn near anything to get Sibyll to stay if it meant her sister would not be arriving.

It gave her some satisfaction to know that she wouldn't have to see her sister for a few more minutes, fleeting though they were, while, her Deputy Headmaster, Severus Snape, would have to bear unbelievable pain. It wasn't her fault. Not really, anyway. She had merely mentioned how busy she was going to be and didn't think she be able to pick up her sister, when Snape had volunteered. It had taken a bit from the others, but with a bit of goading, he agreed.

Minerva glanced at the piles of parchment strewn all over her desk. Sighing, she rifled through some sheets. The prefect schedule, weekly meal menu, and various Professor requests for certain items to be used in lessons. Nearly at the bottom of the mess, she found the photo album. Most of the pictures were decidedly magical, filled with smiling and waving people. But a few, like the one she had opened to, was muggle. It was a superimposed image, from her mother, Anna. Cut outs of several photos of various people had been pasted together, to make one photo. There was her mother, her sisters, their children and their children's children. Off to one side, close to her mother, but not touching, like the rest of them, stood Minerva. Even in a picture, she was separate from the rest of them.

She checked her watch, the only muggle thing she owned. It told the time, as watches do; 6:30. It was time for dinner. It was time for death. Time to greet her sister, the miserable cow.

Elaria:

She supposed it couldn't be bad, All the prefects under one roof. They already worked together; they might as well do everything but eat with one another. "It's to impose a feeling of community, get rid of the House lines, and allow you to get to know someone you might not normally speak to." she mimicked the Headmistress to her mirror. ("That's lovely, dear." her mirror replied). She didn't know why she was so upset, by the news. She and Callie would finally be roommates. But, still, a new experience always held that sense of foreboding, for her.

As for breeching House lines, she thought she had accomplished that. After all, just because it wasn't uncommon for a Ravenclaw and Slytherin to be friends, didn't mean that it wasn't a step in the right direction. But she guessed that what McGonagall really wanted was for Slytherins and Gryffindors to be on good terms.

Merlin wasn't they only one who knew what a disaster such a pairing was at the moment. Headmistress and Deputy Headmaster from Houses on opposite sides of the spectrum were not a good idea. For one thing, McGonagall and Snape were always trying to one up each other. And they usually slighted the other Houses in the process. But, Ravenclaw, her own House, wasn't outrageously slighted. Usually, it was a few points for getting in between the feud. The Hufflepuffs were in the same boat.

"Maybe it won't be too bad", Elaria reasoned. "Maybe, because we're all prefects we can accept this challenge with sophistication and grace". She knew it was a lie when even her mirror refused to agree. If there was one thing Elaria knew better than anything else, it was mixing. You didn't mix dirt and water and expect to get lemonade. And you certainly didn't try to mix the Houses by force. The Headmistress was daring to be enforcing this.

She had learned at an early age that when things didn't want to be together you didn't force them to. Like her grandmother, Granny Quilles. Granny Quilles had two sisters and she only liked one of them. She hated her older sister so much that she refused to speak about her. Elaria wanted very much to meet her grandmother's older sister. Was it wrong to admire the one woman that could rile her grandmother? Even if it was, she didn't care much. She didn't really like Granny Quilles. Granny Quilles was a wretched woman who assumed that anything done, that wasn't done her way, was wrong.

Elaria walked over to her bed, flopping on top of her pillow. She was trying to imagine this year as a prefect. Last year, she hadn't done much. The sixth years had done a lot at the end of the year, because the seventh and fifth years had to study for exams. But in the beginning, all the fifth years had done patrols together. All eight of them had split up without speaking to one another. They went as far away from everyone as they could, looking for students out of bed. But once the Professors had started with the O.W.L.S.' preparation, they had been excused from duties until afterwards.

The seventh years not only had N.E.W.T.S. to deal with but, Graduation as well. They had had exactly two weeks of patrols, before they had been excused. Sixth years had nothing, no big exams and no ceremonies. They would be patrolling a lot. She hoped, but knew otherwise, that they would get to help make the patrol schedule.

Elaria moved closer to the edge of her bed, so she could push her trunk closed. She loved her trunk; it was splattered with various stickers. She had Quidditch stickers and Weird Sisters' stickers everywhere. She had finished packing this morning. All her homework was done and nothing would be left behind. She had heard through the grapevine that Hermione Granger would be teaching at Hogwarts and she was eager to meet 'The Brain'. She was excited about Professor Granger, but was dreading the arrival of her Grandmother at Hogwarts. She didn't know why her Grandmother had wanted to teach Divination, it was a horrible waste of time. A reason, she knew, Emory took it. He could slack off in that class, and still pass. She pitied him. She pitied his joy in just passing. She took pride in a challenge.

She sighed. That would be this year, a challenge. And she planned to make the best of it. She wanted it to be a wonderful year. She wanted a year where nothing at all went wrong. She frowned at the thought of Granny Quilles, creases forming on her forehead. This year would have its ups, she assumed, but not without its downs. And they would be seriously low.

Emory burst into her room, announcing that dinner was ready. She frowned at his back. She had long ago given up on yelling at him for not knocking, and for invading her privacy. Getting up off her bed, she walked to the door, turning back to look for her cat. She hadn't seen him for a while. And though it was a normal occurrence, she couldn't help but worry. Myrddin (pronounced Merlin) had a way of finding trouble and dragging it back to her. And this year, she wanted none of it.

Minerva:

Dinner had been a disaster, as she had predicted. She had just proved that Divination was nonsense; a normal witch could predict a situation as long as she had an ounce of commonsense. You certainly didn't need crystal balls or tea leaves, to see that her sister hadn't changed.

Diana was still her overbearing, ornery self. Her arrival was nothing less than elaborate. She had arrived in the pouring rain and had entered the Great Hall completely dry. Severus, however, was soaked. And Minerva had a suspicion (that was later confirmed by her Deputy Headmaster) that Diana had forced him to use his robe as an umbrella. Minerva could hear her clippie tones insisting that such a task would not require any spell. Yep, she was definitely here, in all her difficultness.

Diana's presence had stifled all the cheery moods that had been established by Hermione's- or rather, Professor Granger's arrival. At the table, sipping her pumpkin juice, Diana had brought it upon herself to insult all the other Professors, before the actual start of the meal. She insisted that Snape had been a positively horrible fellow to her. She complained that he was more an unwelcome nuisance than a proper escort. Snape did not try to deny it. And Minerva had no trouble imaging the vivid and nasty insults they had probably traded.

She had asked Professor Dobbsferry if he really considered Ancient Runes to be a valuable subject and when he replied that it was a highly respected branch of study, she had sniffed and said something near to the effect of it being a homosexuals' class. Minerva winced many times, knowing that many of the Professors were looking to her for help, as her sister moved down the line, during the meal. She had forgotten to mention so many of the things that Diana would find offensive. Things like homosexuals and the color black, which would explain why her robes were a stunning red in contrast to the others, whom were dressed in their typical black robes.

Near dessert, everyone was knocking back vodka mixed with their pumpkin juices. This only led to more ranting by Diana. When she finally left for bed, Minerva was one of the first to complain about her sister. She had no trouble at all agreeing with many of the other Professors who seemed to have many reasons to hate the woman.

Back in her rooms, Minerva was changing into her nightdress when a loud, rough knocking came at her door. She prayed it wasn't Diana. Moving swiftly to the door, she lit her wand, turning the cool knob of her door. It certainly wasn't Diana, but it wasn't good either.

It was Severus, and he was smashed out of his mind. He bumbled into her rooms, tottering as he walked towards her bed. He laid down, looking up at her dome ceiling, his legs bent at the knee, his feet planted on the ground. Minerva walked up to the Potions Master quietly.

"Severus?" She asked, softly. He didn't stir. She diminished the light with her wand, with a soft 'Nox', and lit a few of her lamps instead. The room was hardly lit, but she could see and now her wand was free to do other things. She poked Snape's leg. He still didn't move. Minerva glanced at her watch, she needed to get to bed, and soon, if she was going to be up for the last minute rush before the students arrived.

"Severus Snape! Get up, you drunk bastard!" She barked at him. It did the trick; he shot up into a sitting position, grabbing his inebriated head as he did. He scowled at her.

"What am I doing in here, with you?" He asked, obviously unaware that he had been the one who had knocked to come in. Minerva frowned, creases forming on her already wrinkled forehead. It was unsettling to think that Severus had not been searching for his own chambers but someone else's; he'd made it known with the way he spat out 'you'. What Minerva hated more than him searching for another Professor's room, was that she wanted to know whose rooms he searched for. Not that she cared what he did in his own time, because she didn't, really.

Elaria:

Dinner had been a quiet affair. It always was. She was becoming bored with the procedure. She sat in the same place across from Emory, on the left of her father, the right of her mum. They had roughly the same thing every night, a salad or soup, some meat with pasta or rice, glasses of pumpkin juice or milk, and for dessert; a lecture on how sweets really weren't that good for you. It was after the memorized speech Emory would follow her upstairs and they would unlock the secret compartment in Elaria's trunk and raid the snacks she had stored from Honeyduke's.

It was over handfuls of Chocoballs that Emory told his sister his plans for this year. She listened patiently, all the while wondering if she should be. Some of the things he was telling her were liable to break at least a dozen school rules in the process of execution. When he paused, she cut in.

"Emory, why tell me this? I am a prefect, you know?" She said to him. He looked at her as if she were crazy. His brown eyes staring at her, wide with mock horror.

"Are you, really? Why with the way mum and dad carried on last summer, I never would've guessed." He glared at her then. "Of course I know you're a bloody prefect. That's why I'm telling you, so when you're on patrols and you catch me, you can just get me off the hook." It was her turn to stare at him, her deep blue eyes staring at him, in true horror.

"Emory, I can't do that. You know as a prefect I can't let one student get away with breaking the rules, while I punish another one. It's unethical. What you're asking is nepotism, and I can't do it." She said, in rushed, quiet voice. Emory stood up, getting madder with every second.

"Oh, come off it. It's not that you can't, but that you won't. You're supposed to be my sister, the one who looks out for me, it's your job to make sure I don't get into any trouble." He was shouting, his hands balled in whitening fists. Elaria stood too.

"Really? That's my job? To make sure little Emory doesn't get into trouble?" She was whispering, angrily. Emory nodded, in affirmation. "Fine, then to make sure you don't get into any trouble, I'll be sure to tell the other prefects to look out for you when I'm not on patrols. That way we can all work together to keep little Emory James out of trouble." Emory's eyes widened.

"You wouldn't!"

"Oh, but I will. Just for you, dear little brother. It is my job after all, isn't it? Yes, ever since you could walk and talk, it's been 'Elaria don't take your eyes off Emory. Elaria, you're to watch Emory. Make sure he behaves.' Well, guess what? I have a life too. I will no longer be your keeper. If a prefect or Head or Professor catches you, I won't care, they can put you in detention the rest of the year. And if I catch you, you can bet your arse that I'll slam you twice as hard as anyone else will."

Emory left, fuming and stunned. They were both stunned. She had never yelled at him, she had never yelled at anybody. She knew her parents were probably in their room, a silencing charm in effect. She used to shudder, thinking of what they were probably doing, but she was glad for it now. It meant they hadn't heard. She shivered as she turned towards her bed, pulling back the covers. Her window was closed, and the curtains remained still, letting her know that no wind was entering from the tiny crack that her window could never shut over.

Why was she cold then? She sat on her bed and the creaking floorboards under her bed, sent Myrddin sliding out from under her. She pulled her feet up, in surprise. Myrrdin was back. And that usually meant something was happening or would happen shortly. It had happened twice before. Her third year when he had come back after three weeks of being missing, it was at that time that a strange disease had killed a third of the centaur population in the Forbidden Forest. In her fourth year, Myrddin had been missing for less than a week and upon his return, Ravenclaw had clinched the House Cup.

Myrddin was sitting near her open door, staring at her. She lay down underneath her blankets and stared at him. Sometimes, like when bad things happened after he returned, she would ask herself why she had bought him in the first place. And she was positive he had something to do with it. He turned his head, looking behind him and out into the hallway.

Elaria followed his movements, watching as he cautiously stepped forward into the hall, he paused mid-step, and turned to look back at her. Elaria moved, lying on her side, her head held up by her hand. 'What is he doing?' she wondered. He turned forward once more before walking across the hall to Emory's room. Elaria was halfway out of bed, as he was pawing at the almost closed door. It opened and he darted inside. Elaria tried to follow him, but when she put her hand forward a streak of blue light struck the tip of her finger. She pulled back, looking into the room. Myrddin was just sitting on the floor, looking up at Emory's sleeping form, swishing his tail on the floor.

Back in her room, in her bed, Elaria asked herself why she had even bought Myrddin. It was simple, really. They had some sort of connection; she had felt it when she had walked into the Magical Menagerie, the week before her first year. There had been at least twenty cats in the center of the shop, all inside clear walls that had come up to her armpits. When the cats had seen her, as she bent down to their level, most of them had run away. A few of them approached, sniffing at the walls as if she were part of them, but the tiniest, a smoky gray kitten with short prickly fur and golden colored eyes sat staring at her. Well, not at her, more at her necklace. It was a family heirloom, a scaled model of King Arthur's sword, Excalibur, complete with runic symbols and a double eagle head hilt. It had been swaying, and the tiny kitten had come right up to the window, stood with its front paws pressed to the wall, his little head following the swing of the sword. Then the kitten looked at her, and she smiled, it cocked its head in a manner that made it look as if it were thinking. It leapt over the wall and landed on her deep blue robes, ones that she had outgrown shortly after that, clinging to the material, desperately.

Her parents weren't planning on buying her a cat, but when they had tried and failed to remove the cat from her robes, they agreed to let her have him. At home, Emory, who had been nine, had asked what his name was. And she responded automatically, 'M-y-r-d-d-i-n, Merlin.' She didn't know where it had come from but she liked it, and it fit, perfectly, especially with the kitten's preoccupation with the Excalibur necklace, which she never took off.

'This,' she thought, 'will be an interesting year.' She had no idea.

A/N: Please review, all things are welcome… tell me what you think, especially if you want more chapters… lilololo5


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